"Jim, come here quickly. I have something I must tell you before the warders go."
He turned towards her, frowning, a look of amazement on his face. Even then she hesitated. She heard the front door close. The warders had gone. Taking Jim by the arm she led him towards the conservatory.
"There's some one hiding in there," she whispered. "When you left the room to speak to the chief warder I heard a crash from the conservatory. I went in, and under the shelf I saw a man crouched up. His clothes bore the broad arrow. He's one of the convicts who escaped."
Jim looked at her with unbelieving eyes. Then putting her aside, he stepped quickly towards the conservatory. Suddenly he stopped and swung round.
"Marjorie! You're certain of this? Why didn't you speak—before the warders left?"
Something moved in the darkness of the hothouse. Slowly out of the masses of foliage a head and shoulders emerged. Jim sprang to the bell and rang it.
"What are you going to do?" Marjorie whispered.
"Send Perkins to call the warders back. Give the fellow up," he replied sharply. "You ought to have told me at once, Marjorie. You had better wait in the dining-room."
He stood in the doorway blocking the exit. Marjorie stood in front of him and laid her hands on his arms.
"Jim—you mustn't give him up. It's horrible."